


Servants Mourn Too

by HathorAroha



Series: Frozen Fandom Month Stories [1]
Category: Frozen (2013)
Genre: Duos Week, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-10
Updated: 2015-07-10
Packaged: 2018-04-08 14:06:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4307967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HathorAroha/pseuds/HathorAroha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One day, a few weeks after the King and Queen's deaths, Anna finds someone else, a servant, gazing up at the portrait of the late royal couple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Servants Mourn Too

These days, especially the first few weeks after the funeral, Anna hardly ever spoke to the paintings on the walls. There was only one picture, hidden under a black veil, she talked to these days— that is, the portrait of the late King and Queen of Arendelle. If she wasn’t hovering at or slumped against Elsa’s door, Anna could be found under the portrait in the hall, staring up at her parents’ faces. Sometimes she spoke, but too often, the princess remained silent. When words were too little, or her heart had drained of all the things she wanted to say, Anna fell quiet.

Some days, Anna wondered if Elsa ever slipped into this hall of faces to converse with the late King and Queen. Even if she couldn’t—or wouldn’t—go to the funeral some weeks before, surely she still thought of them, lost fathoms below the surface of the ocean. If Elsa ever did come in here, either Anna always missed seeing her there, or she did it when everyone in the castle slumbered.

_Does she weep too,_ Anna would wonder, _when she sees their veiled portrait?_

 

One dull morning, Anna rested against a window sill in a hallway, leaning her forehead on the glass. Closing her eyes, the princess sunk into the music of raindrops plinking on the windowpane. The wind wheezed past outside, carrying leaves in its wake. Far below, a patch of drooping flowers, half their petals gone, bowed in the cruel wind. The windowpane felt cold on Anna’s forehead, goose-bumps rising on the flesh of her arms in response. With the weather this bad, even adventurous Anna couldn’t bring herself to step outside.

She opened her eyes slowly, staring at the cloud of condensation her breath formed on the window. With a finger, Anna rubbed clear some of the mist, revealing only raindrops crowding on the pane. She squinted to look beyond the haze of drizzle to the fjord beyond. Cold. Wet. Howling storm. Waves in the fjord. Boats bobbing, rocking, and rolling with the swelling water.

Anna’s eyes burned with unshed tears—she couldn’t bear to watch the boats pulling at anchors and rocking on their moorings any longer. Not after…

Rubbing her arms in an effort to get warmth back into them, Anna turned from the window, strolling with languid step and absent mind, letting her feet carry her where they may. These days, if they didn’t carry her to Elsa’s door, then their second choice of destination was the portrait of King Agdar and Queen Idunn.

As it were, Anna’s feet guided her to the hallway where the portrait hung behind its transparent curtain of mourning. Usually, Anna was the only one who lingered there, alone in her grief, praying for the souls of the lost royal couple. She would try not to imagine their last moments as the ship smashed into the waves, every life on board lost at sea.

_What were mother and father’s last words to each other?_

Anna wanted to believe that their last words were “I love you”, and found her heart ached too much to linger long on this imagining. Did they hold on to each other as the ship careened toward its death? Did they suffer long—God forbid—or did they die instantly?

_If there is a loving God, He would not have let them suffer._

She had caught herself asking them, aloud, more than once if their last thought was for their two daughters, left behind at Arendelle castle, one destined to be Queen at such a tender age.

_Elsa is so young to be queen…_

Lost in these musings, Anna nearly bumped into someone who was already standing there at the portrait of King Agdar and Queen Idunn. The princess stopped short when she saw another stood under the picture, her head bowed, but it was not Elsa. Instead, the woman standing there was one of the older castle servants. She had on her full servant’s uniform, including the green cap with its crocus design. Her hands were clasped tight before her, elbows sticking out on either side.

Anna hesitated on the spot, not sure whether to speak up or walk quietly away to leave the servant be. But she didn’t need to do either, for the servant spoke first, back still turned to Anna.

“Good morn, Princess Anna,” Gerda greeted, taking Anna by surprise.

“How did you—”

“I have often seen you come here—but thought it wise not to disturb you.”

“I’m sorry, I’m disturbing you, aren’t I?” Anna apologise, “I’ll just—”

“No, please stay,” Gerda assured, still not turning away from the portrait, though she did lift her head to turn to look at Anna from the corner of her eye. “I don’t mind your company.”

Anna bit her lip, a sudden realisation squeezing her heart.

_Elsa and I aren’t the only mourners in the castle._

“Well, if you’d like the company, I’ll just stay here too,” Anna conceded.

What Anna didn’t say aloud—

_I’ll be glad of the company too._

Princess and servant stood side by side, a few feet apart, as they studied the late royal couple’s portrait. Silence, both full and empty, filled the space between the two women.

“I’ve known them for so long,” Gerda said, her soft voice strangely loud after the sombre quietude of before, “ever since Elsa was born.”

Anna nodded once, a small gesture to show she listened.

“You miss them,” Anna guessed.

Gerda sighed, her eyes never leaving the painting.

“Perhaps not quite as much as the Princess and…Queen Elsa,” Gerda sounded like she wasn’t yet used to thinking of Elsa as the queen now. Not crowned, to be sure, but Elsa effectively was the queen now. “After all, King Agdar and Queen Idunn were your parents.”

Anna studied the faces of her parents. Both appeared serious, but competent—exactly what ideal monarchs ought to be. Both were dressed to top elegance in their royal regalia, ready to address an invisible audience. This was what the world—or Arendelle at the very least—saw when they looked at a king and queen. Few, if any, saw the monarchy’s multi-faceted roles behind the locked castle gates, hidden behind ancient castle walls. King Agdar and Queen Idunn weren’t just rulers of a country—they were employers to few staff, friends to fewer, and parents to two.

“You still mourn them,” Anna said, “I mean, you _did_ know them very well, didn’t you?”

A nod. “There is a reason they kept myself, Kai, and few other staff around. They trusted us very much so. Especially when it came to Elsa.”

Anna’s eyes flickered to Gerda, but nothing about her betrayed anything of knowing more about her older sister than the servant let on.

“What about Elsa?”

Gerda’s shoulders tensed in a short shrug. “It’s not my place to say, I’m afraid, but I know she will tell you in her own time.”

_Tell me about what?_

Anna pushed down the familiar feeling of frustration—exactly _what_ was Elsa hiding? And why wouldn’t anyone tell her? But now was not the time to pester anyone about Elsa. Most especially not a servant who mourned two trusted royals of Arendelle.

Instead, the princess moved her gaze to her mother’s face, heart aching as she saw Elsa in the queen’s wide blue eyes, small smile, and in the delicate shape of her face. Her mother was a beautiful queen, and surely, so would Elsa.

“She was beautiful,” Anna said of her mother, “And…a good queen. As good as a queen can be, I guess, with the gates closed. I like to think Elsa will take after her—she has all the makings to be a good queen already.”

“Agdar and Idunn had a lot of faith in Elsa,” Gerda responded, “Agdar especially.”

“So do I—I mean, I believe in Elsa. I’ve told her loads of times.”

“That’s…that’s good to know.”

“What do you mean?”

Gerda’s hand convulsed to Anna, as though to take her shoulder or hand, but thought better of it.

“She needs you more than you realise, especially now.”

“How do you know?”

The servant let her attention drift back to the colossal painting of Agdar and Idunn.

“As I’ve said, she will tell you when she’s ready.” Gerda rolled her shoulders back, as though to release some internal tension. “I best head away and resume my day, Princess Anna, but know that you and Queen Elsa are not alone.”

Anna nodded, silently grateful for the servant’s understanding. Gerda bid her a “good afternoon” and walked away, leaving the princess alone under the painting of the lost King and Queen.

_The servants mourn too._


End file.
